


To the Winner Go the Spoils; or, Why Tom and Tord Aren't Friends

by baileaves



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-20 04:21:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12424914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baileaves/pseuds/baileaves
Summary: Why does Tom hate Tord so much? Is there a specific reason? Well it turns out there is.





	To the Winner Go the Spoils; or, Why Tom and Tord Aren't Friends

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this on mobile so please let me know if there are any mistakes.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon. Tom was in the living room watching some mind numbing reality tv show. Matt and Ed had left the house so it was only him and Tord in the building. Ed had been nervous, leaving just the two of them together. They didn't seem to really get along and could often get into some pretty violent arguments. But there wasn't much else he could do.  
“Can you two try to be civil. Just until I come back.” Ed had pleaded.  
“Sure.” Said Tord.  
“Whatever.” Said Tom.  
Ed could only sigh, and hope they didn't create too large of a mess.  
And now Tom found himself here, sitting on the couch, barely moved since that conversation. That is until Tord plopped himself next to him. They sat quietly for a moment, but this was just the telltale calm before the storm.  
“What is this garbage you’re watching?” Tord asked sneering, breaking the silence.  
“I don't know, some sort of reality game show.” Tom replied.  
“Yeah, well, I'm changing it.” Tord said immediately flipping to a documentary on the cold war.  
“Ugh! Why would you change it to that?! It's so boring!” Tom cried rubbing his hands down his face.  
“It's good, maybe you'll learn something and fill that empty bowling ball you call a head.”  
“You just want to watch this because you're a fucking commie.” Tom yelled and lunged for the remote.  
Tord quickly brought his foot up, blocking Tom and planting it right in his face.  
“Jesus, you're such a baby, no wonder Ed likes me more than you.” Tord said resting a hand on his chin.  
Tom slapped the foot out of his face seething.  
“Excuse you?!”  
“What? Oh, don't tell me it isn't obvious; I'm just a more likeable person. I mean what with your anger issues and your drinking habits…”  
“Fuck you!” Tom yelled lunging again, but this time towards Tord.  
Tord was able to block him again, and grab hold of the back of Tom’s hoodie and fling him over the coffee table. Tom landed hard on his back with a grunt; body on the floor, legs propped up on the table.  
“See, Tom you’re just proving my point-" Tord was too busy berating to notice Tom quickly get back up and suckpunch him in the face.  
“Screw your point! You're just being an ass, as usual.” Tom yelled.  
This time Tord lunged at Tom and the two began grappling on the floor; pulling hair, biting hands, and trading blows. The two usually fought before, but never quite this violently. Usually just a slap fight, or a screaming match, but by the look in their eyes you could tell each was out for blood. The victor did not seem clear at first. As soon as one tried to pin the other, they would quickly wriggle free before attempting the same. Finally, the match was won with Tord sitting on top of Tom, bending his arm in a painful position behind his back.  
“Why do you always have to escalate shit Tom?!” Tord hissed between pants for breath.  
“I can't help it that you have such a punchable face, and an ego the size of the sun.” Tom hissed back, face half buried in the carpet.  
Tord stared at Tom below him heaving angrily, before taking a deep breath to compose himself.  
“You know what Jehovah? You're beneath me. I don't know why I try reasoning with you when clearly the only language you understand is violence.” Tord shook his head before pausing. An idea clearly coming into his head, before quietly chuckling to himself.  
“Well, if violence is what you want; violence is what you're going to get.”  
Tom’s brow furrowed in confusion, unable to understand what Tord meant, that is until his hand found it’s way to his waistband.  
Tom instantly jerked, his eyes blown wide.  
“What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Tom screeched in panic.  
Tord didn’t answer instead concentrating on getting Tom’s pants down.  
“Stop! You sick commie fuck!” Tom yelled frantically trying to twist out from under Tord. Tord finally did stop, only to wrench Tom’s arm behind his back. Tom grunted out in pain.  
“If you keep struggling, I will dislocate your arm. Understand Jehovah's witness?” Tord hissed. Tom’s mouth hung open in horrified disbelief.  
“Has all that hentai warped your brain!?” Tom spat.  
Just then, Tord growled before forcing Tom’s arm all the way. There was an audible pop before Tom screamed out in pain. Tord backed off slightly allowing Tom to twist onto his back and cradle his now limp arm. Tord used this opportunity to quickly rip off Tom's pants and undo his own. Caught in the pain from his arm Tom momentarily forgot about Tord until he was positioned back on top of him. Tom's breath caught in his throat when he felt Tord’s bare pelvis grind up against his own.  
“D-D-Don’t.” Tom’s voice came out shakily.  
Tord just smiled down at him.  
“See? Now you're starting to get it Tom.”  
Tom felt the wet tip of Tord’s penis meet with his entrance and Tom was nearing hysterics.  
“P-Please! Don't, Tord. I'm begging you! Please,PLEASE!”  
“Tom,” Tord said softly looking at his captive, who heaved panicked, shaky breathes.  
“Understand this.”  
Tord suddenly thrusted deep inside, and Tom screamed bloody murder.  
“I own you!” Tord cried over Tom's screams, before thrusting in again.  
“I own this house!”  
Thrust.  
“I own your friends!”  
Thrust.  
“And soon I'll own this whole fucking world!”  
Tom was sobbing and howling like a dying animal at this point, but Tord didn’t stop.  
The lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh echoing throughout the house. Tom put his good arm over his face trying to hide from the world, but Tord pulled it off.  
“No, I want you to look at me Tom!” Tord said, his face flush; clearly high on adrenaline and his own narcissism.  
Tom heaved, haunted by just how drunk on power Tord was. His eyes scared him the most. There was something very dangerous in them that made Tom's blood turn cold.  
“Say I'm better than you.” Tord demanded, giddily panting for breath.  
When Tom only made choked gurgling noises, Tord frowned and reached for his dislocated arm, jerking it suddenly. When Tom howled in pain, a horrible grin spread from ear to ear on Tord’s face.  
“Say It!” Tord Yelled, his face twisting so devilishly, Tom swore he didn't look human anymore.  
“You’re...You're better than me! Okay!? You’re better than me! Please, just stop!” Tom choked out.  
Tord smirked to himself bringing his face close to Tom’s ear and whispered huskily,  
“You’re goddamn right.”  
And with that Tord finished.

The lock clicked and Ed poked his head in through the door.  
“I’m home!” He called setting his keys on the counter.  
“Hey.” He heard Tord call from in the living room.  
Ed entered to find him sitting on the couch watching some sort of documentary.  
“Jesus, what happened to you?” Ed said noticing the bruises littered all over Tord’s face.  
“Tom and I had a fight.” He said simply, not looking away from the television.  
“Ugh, I knew this would happen. Did you guys break anything?”  
“Nothing important.”  
“Where’s Tom?” Ed asked.  
Tord didn’t answer him, instead opting to focus on the tv program.  
“Tord. Where’s Tom?” Ed repeated more deliberately.  
Tord finally looked to Ed, an inkling of anxiety appearing on his face. Tord frowned and looked back toward the tv before answering.  
“He’s in his room sulking.”  
Ed let out a breath he was holding.  
“Should I go check on him, then?” Ed said.  
Tord frowned again. Before suddenly Tom appeared from around the corner. If Tord looked like a mess than Tom looked like a category 5 hurricane.  
“Tom!” Ed cried “What the hell happened?!”  
Tom took a deep breath glancing over at Tord, who made eye contact with him. Tom adjusted his shoulders but it looked more like a shiver.  
“Nothing, just a fight.” Tom voice came out a little more hoarse than usual.  
“And what happened to your arm?” Ed asked. Noticing the makeshift sling his left arm was in.  
“I dislocated it. It’s okay, just a little sore. Tord helped me set it back.”  
Ed looked between Tom and Tord. He felt like there was something he had missed out on, but he didn't know exactly what it was.  
“Well... I'm going to order pizza for dinner,” Ed said.  
“Try not to get into anymore fights.”  
“Oh, don't worry,” said Tord smiling at Tom.  
“We won’t.”


End file.
